


You And Me And The Devil Makes 3

by orphan_account



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Breathplay, Dark Danny "Danno" Williams, Episode: s05e04 Ka No'eau (The Painter), Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, light painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Williams is the sane one of them two. This is what he keep telling the world. This is what the world keep believing. Except that this is in fact a big fat motherfucking lie.</p><p>The world doesn't know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If you wanna lie with me you're gonna be a liar

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of Marilyn ManSon-You And Me And The Devil Makes 3
> 
> Set after the death of Danny's brother 
> 
> The idea of dark!Danny is so fascinating, I've always wanna write it. So I did ;)

Danny Williams is the sane one of them two. This is what he keep telling the world. This is what the world keep believing. Everything is fine. Back off. There's nothing to see here.

Except that this is in fact a big fat motherfucking lie.

The world doesn't know it.

*

Steve is risky, daredevil, too big for his head sometimes and too adrenaline-addicted in his best day, getting overexcited for  stupid explosions and so full of SEALish energy that he actually _enjoy_ all those combat training. And don't even get Danny to start with those tattoos, if there's a table he will literally put good money on the bet that Steve actually have a pain kink - which turn out that Danny was right as usual, but that's not the point for now.

The point is, Steve is many things, but Danny knows for sure that this guy is anything but insane. Although Danny likes to give him shit about bending the rules and don't know how to be a cop and something, but deep down he know that at some levels Steve is more like a cop than Danny ever does-

The second time Victor Hesse emerged he put a fucking bomb collar on Chin's neck and let's not forget about the first time he put a fucking bullet in John McGarrett's head, the one that hurts Steve the most and bring him back to this island in the first place, still fresh and pain even after all these years. But Steve, Steve just straight up _arrest_ him, all Hesse got was a bleeding nose and not even a stab on the kidney or a broken rib.

And oh there's this fucking Wo Fat, who has escaped from prison so many times that the point of arresting him seems just to be brought back and then providing him another chance to escape AGAIN. Danny has lost count of how many times they repeat this routine, and he will be lying if he says that the idea of using just one bullet to end it now, once for all, for Steve and for everybody else's sake is not tempting. It is. Very. But Danny will never do that, never even dare to whisper the idea in the dark. Because the cop part of his brain is telling (screaming to) him that it's Steve's choice to make and it's the fucking _right_ choice to make.

But none of these parts has stopped him from pulling the trigger in front of Marco Reyes's face. None of it.

And you know what the most scared thing is? If given another chance, Danny will still make same decision. Only this time he will do it slowly enough for Reyes to _feel_  it.

*

There's always a dark side of the moon, Danny knows that. Some water runs deeper than the other, and then there's Danny Williams.

The key of being a good detective is learning how to put yourself into the killer's shoes. To think like they did and to act like they did. What will they do next? What will _you_  do next? What are you thinking about? Are you gonna take another prize or has it been enough for today? Where will you bring them to? How are you going to do with their bodies? What are you thinking about while you're busy cutting them open? Are you just a psychopath or do you have your reasons? Why would you do things like that? Why this particular type of victims? Why would this make you happy? Why do you wanna do that?...The old birds always said that Danny has a gift. What would they know?

Danny left NJPD with 87 homicide cases under his belt, do the math.

*

Sometimes he wonders if that was the real reason why he and Rachel split apart in the end. Sometimes he wonders if she ever saw or heard or just sensed something off under Danny's well-formed cover, and then quickly put things all together- that woman has always been far too intelligent anyway. Sometimes he wonders if he ever lost control in front of Rachel yet didn't remember it, tough case, long hours, and maybe a little too much Tequila.

Sometimes he wonders if there's a second (or third if you're counting) chance for him and Rachel- he's actually doing a lot better in Hawaii. Sometimes he wonders if he just try a little bit harder that Grace might still have a wholesome family now. But other times he just feels so grateful for Rachel that she's now living a new and seemingly happy life without him. He feels grateful for both of them.

For all these years, he tried so hard to keep everything under control. He takes each and every step strictly by the book. He wears shirt and tie and a pair of fucking dress pants in 100 degrees of Hawaii's sun. He's willing to eat egg salad and Greek yogurt for the "healthy body healthy mind" bullshit and he's not even kidding about all those anger management's classes, he actually _pay_ for those crappy inner peace therapies. If there's any of them can help him just hold it on for a little bit longer then Danny Williams is 500% willing to do it, all heart in and no question asked.

He's doing better in Hawaii now, he truly is. But there're always things like that, things that keep pushing the limit of Danny's poor self-control system, until he finally snap.

The first time he nearly lost it is facing the death of Meka. Amy's helpless face just keep showing up in front of his eyes again and again and if there wasn't for Steve or _the entire HPD_  were also in that room, Danny would never know when to stop throwing his fists.

Then there was this sick bastard who took Grace. After that guy stepped out of the car with hands in the air, Danny didn't even hesitate shooting him in the knee. Chin and Kono were a bit shocked, Steve was shouting something from behind- probably Danny's name, but he couldn't care. And God help him if that bastard didn't open his mouth soon enough to tell him where Grace was, Danny will literally shot each and every joint of him once at a time .

And Grace. Oh Grace.

Danny is pretty sure that little girl is the shining savior of his completely miserable life. There were countless, _countless_ times that the idea of "Grace need me to go home" has save him from whatever trouble he got himself in, or save the guy under his gun so to speak.

Danny is also pretty sure that through the first six months after the divorce, Grace is the only thing that keep his sanity intact and stop him from doing anything stupid like running away and sign up for a cartel undercover job in Mexico. Well strictly speaking is Grace and Matt. For six months straight his little brother just show up in front of his motel room with six-pact of beers every fucking night. And now Danny doesn't know how to explain to Grace that uncle Matt will never take her to Disneyland ever again.

 


	2. There's not a word for what I wanna do to you

It's five, or maybe six in the afternoon, Danny is sitting alone in a dim kitchen room, a bottle of half-full whiskey in his hand. He's not sure how long he has been sitting here, and the funny thing is this is not even his kitchen room. It's Steve's, he's in Steve's kitchen room.

This..."thing" between them have been going on for almost two years now. It started with a drunk movie night, they just wrapped up the case a few hours ago- a real tough one, grenade-exploring-kind of tough. Too much Gin and too much beers. The adrenaline from surviving still jumping and dancing in their veins, alcohol sure as hell is not helping. Maybe that's how they do it in the Navy, exchanging a hand job with a buddy while there's no one else around, temporary decompression or something, Danny is not sure. But his mind stop working when Steve bite down hard on Danny's lower lip and finally, _finally_ pull out both of them and wrap him hand around. Steve chuckles on Danny's slightly high-pitch moan. As revenge, Danny grips the back of Steve's hair tight enough to cause a distraction and bite back to Steve's lips just as hard. Okay maybe a little bit harder than necessary because there's a hint of blood he's tasting now. But Steve, that kinky bastard just flash Danny a tooth-showing smile and fasten the work on his hand. One thing led to another, the next thing Danny knows is three months later Steve trembling underneath while Danny fucking him from behind and whispering all kinds of things he's planning to do to Steve after they're done here. Danny barely even need to touch Steve's dick before he coming all over the bed sheet.

Well, what can you say? Danny is always the voluble one.

Danny is happy. For the first time in a long time he's actually _happy_.

Steve always has a way to get on Danny's nerves, intentionally or not. Danny was trying so hard to keep things under control but no, Steven McGarrett just has to push Danny out of his step-by-step detective operation book. And the way he constantly throw himself in all kinds of life-threateningly dangerous situations is just the last straw on Danny's poor restriction. Because one day, one day Steve is not gonna be fast enough or strong enough or lucky enough or SEALish enough to dodge that one bullet, then Danny will just have to tell Mary that he's really sorry and name his second kid Steve.

The anger comes as strong as the fear. Sometimes Danny pin Steve down to the floor and fuck him so hard that both of them will be cover in bruises the next day. And Steve, the superSEAL boy with all his tattoos and muscles and the battle skills training, who knows at least five ways to kill a man bare hand without a blink, who will just willingly _let_  Danny do this to him. The sight of the strongest and most beautiful man you've ever seen in your whole life trembling, panting, grabbing the headboard so hard that Danny can count out each and every line of his body; the sight of Steve breaking down piece to piece under Danny's hand until he's shattering from the inside out and waiting, waiting so good for Danny to put him back together. Those sights are addictive, both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Because Danny knows Steve _can_  take it, and that knowledge is going to put whatever left of his sanity on the verge of collapse.

Like now.

There's a stingy tickle buzzing under his fingertips ever since the funeral ended. He vaguely remembered getting on the plane back to Hawaii two weeks after that. And then he remembered seeing Steve standing beside the baggage claim looking for him. Part of him want to run away as far as he can before Steve ever lay eyes on him. But he push that part aside and walked toward him, even offer him the most stiff-less smile he can manage right now. Somehow that smile hurts something under Steve's eyes, Danny is not sure why.

He shakes his head when Steve's about to drive him home. He can't. It's too soon. Everything in his home remind him of another Williams, and Danny just can't deal with now, at least not while he's still sober.

Instead he ask Steve take him to the nearest bar which is open despite the fact that it's not even the afternoon yet. Steve nod his head and drive them straight to his own house. Throwing him a bottle of whiskey and claiming that he didn't know any bar open that early. Bullshit. It's Ha-fucking-waii, people start drinking Mojito for _breakfast_.

*

Danny take a drag straight from the bottle, didn't even bother to get the glass. The liquor burn through his throat, perfect balance of smoke and sweet linger in his mouth. Danny has drunk his fair share of liquors to know that this is some top-shelf goldshit he's wasting right now- probably a gift from the governor if not the president. But he really couldn't give a flying fuck right now.

"Danny."

The sound startles Danny a little. His hand instinctively go reach for the gun and panic for a second to realize that it's not there, before he recognizes Steve's voice. If Steve notices the way Danny move, he didn't say anything.

Steve's in a grey, worn-out cotton T-shirt and a pair of old boxers. His hairs are damp, from the swimming or the shower, or maybe both. The sun has almost gone under the hill now, dim, orange light coming through the glass window. He looks relaxed, soft around the edges, even domesticated and vulnerable. Danny wonder how beautiful he will looks shivering in the sunset light, naked and on the knees, with both arms tied behind.

"Danny," Steve calls again, this time steps closer to him. He's using the "we need to talk" tone and okay, that's it.

 

 

 


	3. If you get in bed someone would fall in love

No they don't. They don't need to talk about it. Danny took the last drag from the whiskey bottle, let the liquor rush down on him. He can practically hear the "fight or run" siren going off in Steve's head when he saw Danny walking toward him. But Steve didn't move, just stand there and watch Danny come closer.

They didn't make it to the bedroom. Hell, they didn't even make it to the stair. Somewhere along the kissing and the fumbling, Steve managed to get his shirt off before Danny tear it apart. The itch that hiding under Danny's finger tips is back now, and it's getting worse. Danny drink in every inch of Steve's bare skin, it's like sea water for a thirsty man, drinking it just make you desperately want more.

Danny push Steve on the chest to pin him down on the sofa. He can feel Steve's heartbeat under his palm, steady and _alive_. Like if Danny just keep him here, forever, he will be safe; and if Danny _hurts_  him, then no one else could.

Steve's eyes opened wide for a second when he felt Danny's hand on his throat. Danny can feel Steve's whole body tense up underneath him.

"Say your safeword," Danny says, his voice comes out even too harsh to his own ears, "say it and end this now."

His hand tighten up a little on Steve's throat, feeling Steve shivered at that touch, like a string of electric running through his body. _Say it_ , Danny desperately think- beg- _please say it_.

"No."

Steve looked up at Danny, making sure Danny catch his eyes, making sure Danny _understand_. Every battle training he's ever learned is screaming at him to fight back, and every instinct is telling him to flip whoever on top of him over and take control of the situation. But no, this is Danny. Steve doesn't really trust anybody. But this is Danny.

Danny understand.

*

The second Danny's hand leaving Steve's throat, his lips are back on Steve's mouth. Steve is torn between gasping for more air and wanting to taste more of Danny's lips. Danny is still fully dress, his shirt smells like smoke and alcohol, like some cheap bar at the end of the street. Steve refuses to think of where Danny spent the night before.

Instead, he focus on here and now. He pulls Danny's neck closer to deepen the kiss, use the other hand to unbutton Danny's shirt. Danny stopped his hand but didn't break the kiss, just bring both of their hands to Steve's chest and press hard. There's a bad rid there from old battle wound. Steve hisses at the dull pain, but his cock jumps a little for it.

He's been fully hard for a while now, couldn't help but shamelessly rubbing himself on Danny. The friction of the fabric is almost too coarse to bear but Danny shows no intention to remove them. Just keep licking and sucking and biting all over Steve's body. His fingers dig deep into Steve's hip to hold him down while biting hard on one of his nipples, Steve nearly scream out for that.

"Danny," Steve pants out shakily, "Danny," His cock is crying for attention and his whole body feels like two seconds from exploding if Danny doesn't get inside of him right now. But Steve's never the begging type. Words always lost on him at moments like this. He never knows how to ask for what he wanted.

Everything is spinning so fast and all he can say it out is Danny's name. Like a prayer, over and over again.

Luckily, Danny understand.

Spit isn't exactly perfect lube but it will just have to do. Steve is kneeing on the sofa now, grabbing the back of the it while Danny slowly pushing in from behind. It's almost too much, the pain and the burn. But Danny stop after bottomed up, lean forward to press his chest on Steve's back and laying light kisses on his spine. His arm wrap around Steve's waist and his hand stop at the spot above that rib. Not pressing, just stop there, like a threat or a promise.

Steve doesn't need to tell Danny when he's ready, they have done this often enough for Danny to know the exact moment when Steve relax and melt into the sensation. He started with shallow thrusting, and Danny really, really want to hold it back longer, give Steve more time to adjust. But it's just too much. He _needs_  to feel it; he _needs_  to take Steve, right here and right now.

Steve is so hot and so tight around him, every time he pulls out just make him feels like that couldn't slam back fast enough. Steve is panting underneath, his body tensing up and breaking down alternately, like the waves of the ocean and Danny just wanna sink in there forever.

They've set a fierce rhythm. With every long thrust Danny slam to him, Steve just sink back onto Danny dick with even more eagerness. Danny's hand found its own way to Steve's throat at some point. His fingers dig into Steve's neck, feeling the rapid pulse of the blood under his finger tips.

Steve's close, way too close. Three slams straight on the prostate and then he's gone. His whole body tense up like a tight arch while screaming out a silent yell. Let the orgasm tearing out of him. The clenching on Danny's dick is so tight that he can almost see white stars dancing in front of his eyes. Danny barely managed to keep the press on his hand until Steve comes down from the climax, gasping and panting brokenly, fighting for a breath.

Steve wouldn't be able to talk normally for hours, and there will be bruises for days, marking Steve's throat like a collar. The thought of that is the last straw Danny needs. With the last slam, he thrust his dick as deep as he can while pumping the come into Steve's still twitching body, letting himself lose in the ocean of pleasure.

*

They really should clean up and go to the bedroom. They were both covered in sweat and come and the sofa does not designed to fit both of them. Beside, Danny _really_  should check on Steve to make sure he's okay.

But not now. Not Danny laying on top of Steve, listening to Steve's heartbeat rate slowly goes back to normal while Steve throwing a possessive arm around Danny's shoulder. Their limbs tangling with each other.

They will eventually have to talk about it. Talk about all those things Danny buried deep under the ground- no pun intended.

But not now. Not when they're laying here, together, safe and sound.

 

 

 

 


End file.
